Disclaimer: I don't own World of Warcraft.

Author's Note: Started writing this after the Legion trailer dropped, but before the game was released. So the events in this start from the trailer and the events of Broken Shore. Life intervened from this being completed and posted sooner.

World of Warcraft: Out of the Shadows

Chapter 1: Death of the Warchief

Sylvanas stood still as death. If she'd needed to breath she'd probably have found the smoke-filled air too much for her. Many types of medicine and incense had been burned to try to defuse their healing properties into the very air of the room. As a High Elf, she would've found the method laughably backwards. Now, as one of the Undead, she couldn't help but wonder what the point was. In the end, everything died.

"I have never trusted you! Nor would I have ever imagined, in our darkest time... that you would be the one to save us. The spirits have granted me clarity... a vision. They whisper a name. Many will not understand, but you must step outta da shadows... and lead. You must... be... Warchief…"

Vol'Jin, Warchief of the Horde, had said the words with the last of his breath before finally succumbing to his wound delivered at the hand of a demon. Sylvanas had stood there silently after the words had been spoken. Still as death she'd stood there as Vol'Jin had been wrapped and prepared for death rites by the shamans and priests of the Horde. She'd stood there still as Baine and Lor'themar had gently lifted up the litter holding Vol'Jin's covered body and carried him out of Grommash Hall. She'd stood there, alone in front of the throne of the Warchief.

Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, a large green form had walked confidently into the room. Sylvanas didn't turn to look at him, she knew who he was.

"Warchief," said Thrall confidently. Sylvanas admired how one who still breathed with life could confront death, both literally and figuratively, with such strength. And with how he could accept his own failings and refused to retake an office so many wished for him to claim. An office that had now been passed on to her. "What are your orders?"

Sylvanas slowly turned towards Thrall, studying him with an icy glare. Thrall just stared back with all the confidence, calm and friendliness that had been his since he'd received enlightenment and become a shaman that could truly commune with the spirits that gave him strength. After a moment Sylvanas spoke, her voice sounding like it belonged to someone else and she was outside of herself and watching.

"Gather up our soldiers," commanded Sylvanas. "I will speak to them."

"Yes Warchief," said Thrall simply, turning around to quickly spread her order. When he was gone Sylvanas looked over her shoulder once more at where Vol'Jin, and Thrall himself, had once been seated. Then she turned away and walked out of Grommash Hall. There was work to be done.

Thrall acted on her orders quickly. Soon he had gathered a significant portion of the might of the Horde. Sylvanas knew she should be comforted by the strength on display before her. Strength that was now hers to command. But as she surveyed the crowd all she could see were the faces of the dead and dying on the battlefield as the Burning Legion marched towards them, never slowing in the least. Vol'Jin's broken form rested on the ground in front of her. His words echoed once more in her ears.

"Do not let da Horde...die this day…"

"Vol'jin is dead," said Sylvanas solemnly, her voice carrying across the forces of the Horde easily as if carried by the wind itself. "Who among you will help me avenge him?"

The words were simple, but they stirred the assembled forces below her. Orcs, Trolls, Goblins, Tauren, Blood Elves and her own fellow undead started to cry and chant in newfound fervor. Their cries soon started to fill every inch of Orgrimmar, letting everyone know what they stood for. "For the Horde! For the Horde! For the Horde! For the Horde!"

Sylvanas just stood there silently, soaking it all in. She noticed Thrall standing to the side, his expression giving nothing away. Next to him stood Baine and Lor'themar, both also keeping their emotions to themselves. These were the three men she now had trust to help her succeed in getting her promised revenge on the Burning Legion. They were going to need to have a chat…

"That was a moving declaration," complimented Baine as he shuffled around the table and took a seat at his spot. His chair was marked with the emblem of his people, the Tauren. Across the table from Baine was Lor'themar and the mark of the Blood Elves. Next to Lor'themar sat the empty chair of Trade Prince Jastor Gallywix, leader of the Bilgewater Cartel Goblins. At the foot of the table was Thrall, the mark of the Orcs above his chair. At the head of the table sat Sylvanas, the mark of the Forsaken, her mark, was etched right above where her head rested. Vol'jin's chair, that representing the Trolls of the Horde, was moved to the side of the room, away from the table.

"Thank you," replied Sylvanas. "I plan to act on those words quickly. But first, what is the word on the Trolls after Vol'Jin's death?"

Thrall was the one who spoke here, which was unsurprising with how friendly and respected he was with the Darkspear Trolls. "The Trolls are still deciding their new leader, but all candidates have stated their intention to stay a part of the Horde. Nothing I've seen or heard indicates that we won't be able to count on them in the future."

"Very good," commented Sylvanas. "And where is Gallywix?"

"He ran off after the proclamation from Vol'Jin yelling something about "stock crashes" and

"salvage efforts"," replied Lor'themar. "He did stop to ask me to convey his "sincere sadness at the death of Vol'Jin", his "compliments on your ascension" Warchief, and his "continued loyalty to the Horde"." He leaned forward in his seat, his hands clamped together as he regarded Sylvanas. "For what it's worth, I believe everything he said is sincere. At least as sincere as a goblin could ever be."

"As long as the Trade Prince has the Horde's best interests in mind, then we can leave him to his own devices," said Sylvanas. "In any case, this meeting will probably go much smoother without him here. You three are the leaders of your factions. As Vol'Jin trusted your advice and wisdom, so do I. Are you all willing to serve the Horde in the same capacity?"

Thrall sat up straight and pounded his fist into his bare chest. "I and the Orcs of the Horde are at your command Warchief."

Baine responded next, with little hesitation. The Tauren leader's father Cairne Bloodhoof had been a strong supporter of the Forsaken's inclusion into the Horde and Baine had always tried to follow his father's example since his own elevation to Chieftan. "You have the loyalty of myself and my people Warchief."

Lor'themar gave Sylvanas a slight bow of his head. "As Regent Lord of Quel'Thalas, I Lor'themar Theron and my Blood Elves promise to follow you and the Horde."

"Very good. Now, have there been any rumblings among your advisors or high-ranking commanders or religious leaders?"

Her fellow leaders didn't respond as quickly to the question as they had the one prior. Lor'themar was the first to answer. "Of course, there have been plenty of concerns already directed my way since the words appointing you came out of Vol'Jin's mouth. Indeed, there were plenty of rumblings when he was injured in battle. None of these I believe are serious though. I reminded my people of your connection to us as Ranger General and all that you've done for us in the past. That quieted all but those who most hate the undead or those who would have complained no matter what outcome happened."

The type of complaints and politics I hated when I was alive no doubt, thought Sylvanas. I was just as petty and superficial while alive, although in different ways. My first death brought me anger. My second resolve. My third, clarity. Others will never be so lucky.

Sylvanas appreciated Lor'themar's blunt words and his quick support of her and hoped he was right. She'd hate to have to raise a hand against her former people to carry through with the new duty that had been thrust upon her. Distaste for a task had never stopped her before though, and it wouldn't stop her now if needed. She turned to Baine, drawing out his answer next. "Thank you Lor'themar. And what about the Tauren, Baine?"

"They are slightly more uneasy about these changes," admitted Baine. "Feelings on our partnership with the Forsaken have always been mixed. You've been stalwart allies and were vouched for by my father but..."

"But that advice also came from Magatha Grimtotem," finished Sylvanas. "And since she killed your father and tried to take over the Tauren, the Forsaken are seen as possible puppets of her."

Ah, this old problem. I'd almost forgotten about the politics among the Tauren. They're so simplistic at times, I forgot they also had disagreements on such a level as this. Magatha helped me once, but now she's just a thorn in my side.

"Correct. But, while we do not follow the same spirits as those of Vol'Jin, our own shamans and druids have indicated that this is in fact the right path for us to take. Only the few blinded by their own fear and hatred truly stand against your new position as Warchief."

Thrall chose that moment to speak up. "Our own spiritual leaders, including my own conversations with the spirits, indicate much the same." His expression turned to one of dark amusement. "Of course, even more than the Tauren that doesn't stop those who have complaints. I doubt any of the slurs I've heard are new to you, but they were impressively colorful nonetheless. And there are still those who wish that I once again become Warchief. I would like you to know for certain that I never intend to sit upon that throne and be called by that title." His expression became bright once again. "If I was Warchief I would have less time to spend with my family, and I'd hate to give that up."

Baine and Lor'themar both smiled and chuckled at the comment. Sylvanas allowed herself a rare half smile. Thrall's flippant attitude was almost comforting. She also knew, through that inner sense that had served her well in the politics of Elvish society, that all three men were completely sincere in every word they had spoken to her. The candor they displayed to her could've been misconstrued as disrespect, but she chose instead to view it as the symbol of a new Horde. One that would need to be stronger than ever if it wanted to survive.

"Thank you for the reports, and your honesty," said Sylvanas, drawing attention back to herself. "As I've said before, the Burning Legion is our primary concern now. We will stop their invasion and get revenge for Vol'Jin's death. To do that we'll need to prepare ourselves quickly. Deal with any possible turmoil before it happens. Understood?"

There were nods of assent as her fellow leaders' expressions turned serious once more. She continued to address them, "this means we will be cutting down on skirmishes with the Alliance where possible. I will be calling an end to the Ashenvale conflict and ordering our forces to pull back to the border of the Barrens."

"The Warsong Orcs aren't going to be happy to hear that," commented Lor'themar. "They've been fighting for years for every inch of ground in that forest. Plus, it also means we'll have less lumber and other supplies."

"I believe it'll be the opposite actually," commented Baine. "The supplies, and warriors, we use in the fight are worth much more than we receive. This will allow us access to some of our most experienced warriors who have been fighting non-stop for years. My own advisors have kept asking me to bring forward the issue of the massive destruction and deforestation of the land there and to ask that we pull out. They will be glad to hear of this move."

"I agree with Baine," said Thrall. "Ashenvale was a mistake I started and one that Garrosh made worse. I would be happy to see it ended. I also agree with Lor'themar, the Warsong clan will be furious. As such, I will personally deal with them and convince them that there is more honor in leaving a worthless battle and fighting against the Legion."

"I don't envy you the task," chuckled Lor'themar. He looked over at Sylvanas. "Am I right to guess that Ashenvale isn't the only theater we'll be leaving?"

"You are," replied Sylvanas. "We'll fortify along the Stonetalon Mountains and the northern Barrens, but most of our forces there will be redirected to fight the Legion. We shall do the same in Dustwallow Marsh. There isn't much of value there anyways beyond disease and the vitrified remains of a now useless port."

"Will we only be pulling forces out of Kalimdor?" asked Lor'themar.

"No, we will also be tightening our borders in the Eastern Kingdoms as well. We will be pulling out of the Western Plaguelands back to the Bulwark and to the borders of the Ghostlands around the Eastern Plaguelands."

"But the undead there…" started Lor'themar.

"Are no longer a threat," replied Sylvanas. "The Argent Crusade has already almost wiped them out, in both lands, and will do so without us. Our involvement was minimal anyways."

"I see," nodded Lor'themar, thinking on Sylvanas's words. "I see the wisdom. Andorhal isn't worth the blood that's been shed for it and every bit of land between the Bulwark and the sea is corrupted and useless."

"Exactly." Sylvanas then turned her gaze to Baine. "I need you to contact the druid Hamuul Runetotem and ask if he would be willing to prepare the largest force of druids he can. Contact the Night Elves if need be, I know he can."

Baine raised an eyebrow at the request. "Oh? And what will he be needing to do with those druids?"

"They will be sent to every patch of land in the Eastern Kingdoms that has been scorched, burnt or plagued and restore it," declared Sylvanas. Her words shocked her fellow leaders, their mouths hanging open in surprise. Thrall was the quickest to recover, a slight smile on his face.

"You've suddenly become environmentally conscious?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Not at all," replied Sylvanas with a smile of her own. "I have just decided it is time to deal with this problem once and for all."

"Did we not just decide to not spread out our forces?" asked Lor'themar. "Should we not request the druids' assistance against the Legion instead?"

"I feel this is a worthy trade off," commented Sylvanas. "I will of course be sending my best apothecaries to assist the druids in ridding the world of the plague for good."

"You're not worried for their safety in such a task?" asked Baine. "While they'll probably be invaluable, I would think that as one of the undead yourself you'd find issue with such a plan." Baine seemed to realize what he'd said only after the words had left his mouth and his expression turned slightly apologetic. "I mean no offense Warchief. But, it does seem unusual."

"I think you underestimate how much many of the Forsaken truly care about the living," replied Sylvanas. She gestured to herself. "This is a curse, nothing more."

While she'd been talking to Baine and Lor'themar, Thrall's face had contorted in thought. Suddenly comprehension dawned on his face. "She wants to make peace with the Alliance…" he muttered in realization. He looked up at a pleased Sylvanas. "That's what all of this is about, isn't it?"

"Truly?" asked Lor'themar, surprised. "Why?"

"Because we need them to fight the Burning Legion," replied Sylvanas. "And because I, the new Warchief was the one who called a retreat leaving the Alliance flank unguarded."

"And there's no way they're pleased by that," commented Blaine.

"It was a justified retreat," said Lor'themar. "Vol'Jin was down and we were being overrun. You made the right call."

Sylvanas was happy to hear her fellow elf's justification of her action. Unfortunately, his opinion didn't matter in this situation.

"But the Alliance won't see it like that," commented Thrall. "They hate betrayal as much as we do. Even if it's just perceived betrayal. And many among them have been looking for an excuse to wage war with us again."

"Yes," nodded Sylvanas. She locked gazes with Thrall. "Which is why after you recall the Warsong clan I would like you to head with all haste to Stormwind to talk to Varian about what happened and to tell him of the death of Vol'Jin."

Thrall shook his head suddenly. "I refuse," he said simply.

Sylvanas was shocked. Her eyes narrowed. "You refuse?" she repeated. "Why would you, of all people refuse to make peace with the Alliance. You are friendly with several of their leaders, are you not?"

"I am," nodded Thrall. "But I will not do this for you. It's not what is best for the Horde."

"Have you been caught by the same madness as Garrosh?" asked Sylvanas. This comment hit Thrall hard and he just returned her glare.

"I have not. But I know that I can't be the one to do this. You called the retreat. You're the new Warchief. You must be the one to talk to the Alliance and apologize. You must forge this new truce personally."

Sylvanas couldn't help but laugh at Thrall's little speech. "Ha! I'm their least favorite person, maybe only Gul'dan is more hated. They will kill me on sight and ask questions later." She looked over at Baine. "You are also friendly with Proudmoore and earned respect by defending Garrosh at his trial. You will go if Thrall will not."

Baine also shook his head sadly. "I cannot. I understand your reservations, but Vol'Jin's last words to you still linger in my ears. He said you must come out of the shadows. The spirits don't speak to me as they did Vol'Jin or do Thrall, but I still believe this is where it starts. I hope you can understand."

"Very well," said Sylvanas icily. She looked over at Lor'themar. "And your say on this matter?"

Lor'themar was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke next, it was softer than Sylvanas had ever heard him. "I will stand with whatever you command Warchief." His words were honest, but she also knew they weren't everything he had to say on the matter.

"You agree with them," said Sylvanas simply. Lor'themar nodded.

"I do."

Sylvanas stared at them; her fellow leaders, her advisors, her comrades in arms, and the individuals she respected the most of those who still managed to breath. They all said they stood with her, but they also stood against her. They honestly believed that this was the right course of action. She wanted to ignore them, to command them as Warchief to follow her orders. She also knew they were right. She hated them for that.

"Very well then," replied Sylvanas slowly. "I've heard what you have to say, and I agree." The faces of all three men visibly relaxed at her words. She hated them for that too. "I will travel, alone, to Stormwind." That declaration caught them by surprise.

"Without a guard?" asked Lor'themar.

"I am more than capable of protecting myself," replied Sylvanas. "I will also move quicker by myself. I do not tire, and neither does my steed. All haste is necessary in this situation, is it not? You are all needed here and among your respective people to make the transitions we are going through as painless as possible."

"Understood," nodded Thrall. He thumped his chest with his fist once more. "Your will be done."

"And I will contact Hamuul," said Baine.

"Ask the druids to start their efforts on restoring the Dead Scar," said Sylvanas. "They can work their way through the Ghostlands from Silvermoon. The corruption there is less than in the Plaguelands. It'll make a good first test.

"I will prepare for their arrival and any assistance they need then!" declared Lor'themar, his face shining at the prospect of finally healing the gaping wound that had long afflicted the lands he ruled. "If possible then we may just have our druids and apothecaries while in our borders and we can meet the Alliance side at Light Hope's Chapel?"

"Yes," nodded Sylvanas. "That sounds like it would be for the best. Is there anything else we must discuss?"

"Who will oversee the Horde in your absence Warchief?" asked Baine. "One of your rangers?"

Sylvanas shook her head. "They will control affairs in Undercity, but you will be in charge while I'm gone. Do you accept?"

Baine looked taken aback for a moment before recovering his composure. His face lit up at the honor and he thumped his fist against his chest. "I will lead the Horde well while you are in Stormwind."

"That I trust," said Sylvanas, giving a rare compliment. "Any objections?" she asked, looking to Lor'themar and Thrall. Both men shook their heads.

"None from me," replied Thrall.

"My assistance and loyalty is open to all leaders of the Horde," declared Lor'themar.

"Very good," preened Sylvanas. She stood up, pushing back her chair as she did so. "This meeting is adjourned. You have your duties, and I trust you to carry them out. Lor'themar, could you inform the Trade Prince of what transpired here today?"

Lor'themar inclined his head slightly. "It will be done."

"Then we have much work to do. For the Horde!"

"For the Horde!"

Yes, for the Horde, thought Sylvanas. If I have nothing else left then this is what I will protect to my last breath. No matter what I must do to do it...